


Guardian Angel

by agentM40



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 21:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20785397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentM40/pseuds/agentM40
Summary: Wilson gets saved from an attack in an alley way, by something more supernatural than he would have expected





	Guardian Angel

Wilson backed up away from his advancer, into the brick wall behind him. At this moment he understood why his sister would always keep her hand around the canister of pepper spray in her hand when walking to her car through the grocery store parking lot. The masked man jabbed his gun forward to remind him that he was under threat.

“Hand it over,” the man told him. “You know what I want.” It was a statement. A correct statement. Wilson reached into his back pocket for his wallet, which made the man stiffen.

“Slowly,” he commanded, seemingly becoming nervous. Wilson froze at first, confused about this reaction before realizing he was afraid he may have been reaching. He slowly shakely retrieved his wallet from the pocket. He only had about twenty dollars in it, and he could easily get things fixed with all his card companies. To think that he could die over 20 dollars.

Just as he was handing it over he felt a gust of wind coming from further down the alley. Turning his head, all he saw was a shadow. Until the shadow spread its wings. The long, inky black appendages wouldn’t spread completely in the limited space of the alley, but even unfolded to the limit of the alley showed them well enough to see the intimidating branches that drooped from the shadow’s body, sagging on the ground. Wings that, if they were to completely unfurl, would have at least a 12 foot span.

“You’re teetering the edge,” said the shadow darkly, with a surprisingly young sounding, but not any less intimidating voice. “Your judgement day is coming, and you won’t be able to turn back. This is your last chance. Turn around. Don’t look back” The other man dropped his gun and turned, scrambling to get out of the alley. Wilson, however, didn’t move; staying frozen in his fear. Looking back at the event, he would find himself glad he didn’t run.

The figure drew nearer and he stiffened. As it got closer he realized how much shorter it was than him. The figure drew down its hood to reveal a fairly young face. Looking somewhere between fifteen and seventeen. He let out a chuckle that somehow managed to be dark and playful at the same time.

“That was fun,” he said, lightheartedly. Wilson sputtered a bit before eventually finding the words.

"That…” He started laughing a bit. “That was impressive! What are those made of?” He tried reaching for the boy’s wings. “How did you get them to-” He was cut off by the boy jerking back from the touch, his face falling abruptly.

“Don’t.” He pushed his shoulders back, somehow doing it in a manner which looked more closed off than open. He glanced down, before bending down and picking up his wallet. “Here,” he mumbled, handing it over. As soon as Wilson took it, the boy turned and started walking away.

“Hey, wait!” Wilson ran over, grabbing his shoulder. The boy did not react in a way that he expected, but he shouldn’t have been surprised when he startled, slapping Wilson hand off of him and quickly forming a defencive position. His face was now the depiction of shocked. While he looked scared of what Wilson himself was going to do, it only took a split second for his eyes to cast down, still wide, as if he was surprised at his own reaction.

At the first interaction with the wings Wilson could only believe they were fake. Besides the fact that he would immediately assume so, given the otherworldly concept of a person with wings, but the boy had been further down, in a darker part of the alley. Now, however, up close—with the thought of the possibility of them being fake at the front of his mind—they were clearly real.

The boy stiffened, standing straighter and retracting the wings in one quick movement. Wilson dropped his hand after a few seconds, realizing that the boy wasn’t going to move.

“So,” Said the boy, stiffly. “What do you want?” Wilson stood up straighter

“What’s your name?” The boy scoffed, looking down and to the side.

“I don’t need to tell you.” There was a few seconds pause as Wilson tried to think of a response. Instead the boy spoke up again, looking back at his face. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to pay you back. For what just happened.” The boy crossed his arms, defensively.

“You don’t need to know my name for that.” With a sigh, Wilson lifted his arms up, exasperatedly, letting them slap against his thighs as they fell.

“No, I guess not! It would have been nice though.” There was another pause. “Alright, where are your parents? Or just, where do you live? I could drop you off or something.”

“I wouldn’t just tell you that stuff.”

“Alright, well, what if I paid you or something.” The boy laughed a little.

“I just helped you to keep your money.”

“Frankly, I was not nearly as worried about the money as the gun. Come on. Any suggestions?” The boy sighed

“You ever hear of a place called Hugh’s? I’ve only been there once- a long time ago, but I remember it being really good. It’s actually just around the corner, I think.”

“Ok! Yes, let’s go there.” The boy seemed put off by his reaction. Or maybe his eagerness to repay. He was grateful, and he always tried to do his best to repay the people in his life for their help or support, but he would be lying if he said not a bit of his eagerness came from his curiosity. He couldn’t just go into the world now that he knows about this and just continue to live his life. He needed to know more. As much as he wished he was helping simply because he wanted to pay him back (which he did) or out of the kindness of his heart, mostly he just couldn’t get the best of his curiosity.

Wilson had neer been to this Hugh’s place before, so he let the boy lead him. It was farther than just around the block as he had predicted before, but still not that large of a distance, being just a few short blocks away. Wilson really expected a much nicer place, if he was being honest. Given that the boy had made a suggestion, he’d have expected that suggestion to be better quality.

He soon found himself sitting across from the boy, who had his knees pulled up to his chest, despite the chair. He was glad to find this was the type of restaurant to have a waiting service. Places that don’t always seem really open, and not very welcoming. He probably wouldn’t feel comfortable asking at a place where you had to order up at the counter.

“Are you going to tell me your name now,” he asked, a few minutes after they both ordered. The boy scoffed, letting his eyes roll slightly.

“It’s Axle. And aren’t you persistent.”

“I guess. Why were you so against telling me?” He seemed to debate in his head whether or not to tell for a couple seconds, before eventually complying.

“I’ve never even had a conversation with anyone who’s seen them.”

“You mean the,” Wilson trailed of gesturing slightly past Axle’s shoulder. Axle stared back at him, like he thought he was an idiot.

“What else?” While it was a question, it was said like a statement.

“Right, well- if you don’t mind me asking, where did you get them?”

“Where’d you get your arm,” he asked rhetorically, “I don’t know, I’ve just always had them.” Seeing the waiter starting to walk up with their food, he didn’t respond. The next few minutes went by silently, save for the sounds of chewing and music played overhead. Axle devoured his burger like a half starved dog, with little regard for respectability.

“So,” Wilson started, slowly, after Axle finished, “What do your parents do for a living?” Axel sighed, with a bit of a smile.

“I’m willing to bet you just figured it out.”

“Do you want another burger?” Wilson hadn’t noticed how open Axle’s body language had become since they arrived until he closed into himself again, shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh- No, you don’t have to. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? You can pick something else. It doesn’t have to be a burger.”

“I’m fine.”

“Where do you live? I could take you there.” Honestly, he might have just left things where they were, but he doubted he had anywhere to go. Going to a foster home or adoption center might end badly with the wings. Maybe it already had in the past. Wilson got his answer in the form of silence.

“If you offer to take me to your house…”

“Would that be a problem?”

“I mean- Just, don’t assume I trust you because you fed me.”

“Do you think you’d be safer in an alley- or wherever it is you end up sleeping and… stuff?” Axle gave him a blank stare for the next few seconds before rolling his eyes, standing up.

“Fine,” he said, drawing the word out. Wilson called over the waiter, asking for the bill and a box for the food he didn’t finish. They had to walk the few blocks back to his car, and the walk there, as well   
as the whole ride to his apartment, was only filled with the sounds of cars and footsteps; no words spoken.

Once they got there Wilson found himself glad his Kirt was out of town for the weekend, and he wouldn’t have to explain why he brought some kid home. Though, he supposed he may eventually have to anyway. Wilson pulled out the couch bed, more thankful than ever that Kirt’s sister would sometimes crash there, leading them to buy the thing in the first place, mutually agreeing that it was late without needing to say anything. It didn’t take long for them to settle in. They both went to their respective sleeping places almost immediately after Wilson got out extra blankets for Axle to sleep on.

As Wilson drifts to sleep he thinks about how he should talk to Axle about what to say to Kirt when he gets back. He wanted to get their stories straight, doubting that Axle wanted to reveal his wings just like that. When he woke up, however, the blankets were already folded up and put back in the closet, the bed was folded up, and Axle was gone. 

And Wilson should have known better.

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll make a sequel. IDK


End file.
